This a movie review of THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E.

“Contrary to what you may think, we are not in the haberdashery business,” Sanders (Jared Harris)Plodding then rushed, plodding then rushed. The pace has the feel of filmmakers falling asleep at the wheel, and then waking to find they still have more terrain to cover. By the supposed climax, THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E. is so rushed, that one wonders where the hurry is being instigated from. (Creatives with a gun literally held to their collective heads to complete a film might make a more satisfying movie than this.) Incongruously THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E. is both frivolous and leaden.

Supposedly directors Steven Soderbergh and Quentin Tarantino were interested in adapting the 1960s TV show. If true, one can dream of the panache the former might have brought, and the intensity the latter has to offer. The lack of stakes is sorely missed. At no point is there any fear for these super spies. And like Marvel superheroes, when you need your protagonists to live to continue the franchise, the air goes out of the project. Sequel-itis is so prevalent in blockbuster moviedom that all the computer generated carnage, the tech teams can muster, is not enough to distract from the emptiness of the battles.What is left then for THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E.? Answer: A few amusing moments of shenanigans, and clumsy innuendo ("getting off", "finishing off" - something from the 1960s that can be left behind.)

Fifteen minutes of patronising set-up greets the audience from the outset. Opening credits explain the Cold War so simplistically, that if you feel enlightened at the end, you have to ask yourself: How are you even alive?Berlin, 1963, the city divided into two, between the Allied forces and the Soviets, and separated by a wall. At Checkpoint Charlie, in faux 1960s film stock (quickly abandoned), C.I.A. spy Napoleon Solo (Henry Cavill) arrives to cross over the border. There are lots of steely stares and side glances assessing threats. Reflected is the image of Russian K.G.B. agent Illya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer) on his tail. The scene is neither particularly stylish or exciting or original, which epitomised the entire runtime. Odd banter-ish moments and an ace soundtrack occasionally pierce the ennui of a film that has no second gear.

Gaby (Alicia Vikander), the beautiful mechanic at an East Berlin chop shop, is the target for both spies. A car chase is involved. And director Guy Ritchie goes back to his first SHERLOCK HOLMES movie and makes the action nonsensical: Ugly rapid edits devoid of clarity and excitement. In a stunning display of artlessness and lowest common denominator pandering, a breakneck team-up is established, between Solo and Kuryakin, to thwart former Nazis from establishing a new method of making nuclear weapons. No time is given to establishing atmosphere, character or plot. In more skilled hands, there would be a knowingness to the hone in on narrative basics. From then on, you are always two steps ahead of the movie.One standout sequence in 117 minutes is all we are gifted. As Solo lets Kuryakin tangle with a boat equipped with machine guns, he takes his time to savour a homemade sandwich, which would be labelled "artisan" at a modern metropolis deli, while listening to a gorgeous Italian pop song on the radio, before then driving off the edge crushing the boat. If there's a sequel, more of that insouciance please.

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